


Feed the rain

by nishiki



Series: two sides - same coin [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unrequited Love, one sided Edward Nygma/Oswald Cobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-22 17:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishiki/pseuds/nishiki
Summary: Jim has a heart to heart with Oswald about his feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A very short little story that came to me last night.

Jim had not often been to the mansion on the outskirts of town where Oswald, the Penguin, was holding court over Gotham. These days, especially after everything that had gone down with Sophia Falcone and later Jerome Valeska, he could be found in the ancient estate of his family than anywhere else, almost as if he was avoiding the city at all costs as if he was feeling much safer out here in his seclusion.

It had started to rain as Jim was pulling his car into the driveway of the mansion, dark clouds hanging low and heavy with rain over the city. To anyone who didn't know who was living in this giant house, it would be of no special interest. Just one more ancient building in Gotham that seemed to hold up all those centuries just out of spite - just like it's current owner, of course.

Jim had never talked about the house or the previous owner to Oswald. He knew that he had inherited both house and fortune from his father, the late Elijah van Dahl, shortly after Oswald had been first released from Arkham Asylum. Apparently, the old man had died only weeks after first meeting his long lost son. Some said Oswald had killed him and Jim, being a cop and knowing that Oswald Cobblepot was all too willing to step over corpses to get what he wanted, was inclined to believe that as well.

With the years, Oswald had only become more unhinged, more vile and unstable. His henchmen feared his violent outbursts. At least by now, he didn't try to fool anyone into believing that he would be anything but a raging criminal. But that was not the reason why Jim came today and there weren't any favors to be collected between them too. Three days ago, Oswald Cobblepot had saved the city from Jerome Valeska’s toxic laughing gas as he had heroically steered that blimp over the river.

Maybe there was a part in Jim that still felt guilty over letting him stew up in the sky in that deathtrap for hours before finally contacting the standby pilot to get him down. He had been there when the blimp had been landed and Oswald able to leave that aircraft. The kingpin of Gotham had been shaken to his core. Apparently, penguins really were flightless birds and no fans of great heights. Seeing him so shaken up had made him feel sorry for the young man while Harvey had just laughed and made his cruel little jokes about the whole situation. Well, that was just Harvey.

It also had been Harvey who had accused James of using the official business he had with Oswald to check on him. Sure enough, he could have just called Oswald or send a letter even. Yet, here he was, parking his car in front of the old house and stepping into the heavy rain. There was another car parked in the driveway that he didn't recognize. He thought that he had seen it before but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Walking up to the door, he didn't need to ring the bell or even knock as someone opened it from the inside already. »Detective Gordon!« Gabe, the human equivalent of a Labrador, as Oswald had once so fittingly described Gabe to him years ago, ushered him inside. »Saw you coming from a mile away! Quick before you get soaked!« That Gabe was still alive sometimes seemed like a miracle. Even greater a miracle was only the fact that Butch was back at Oswald's side these days - or Grundy. Whatever he wanted to call himself. He didn't know how this unholy alliance came to be and he didn't know if he should be glad that Butch was back in the picture either. It probably was none of his business anyway.

»You here to see the boss?« Gabe inquired as he closed the door behind Jim as if he would truly think there would be any other reason why he would come here. Gabe was one of the old squad who had grown up as a career criminal under the protection of men like Don Falcone and Salvatore Maroni. Much unlike so many other younger mobsters, though, Gabe still had a great deal of respect for the police and subsequently Jim Gordon. He could appreciate that.»I’m afraid he is rather busy at the moment. But I’m sure he-«

»Get out!« The shrill shriek echoed through the mansion and certainly shook the crystal glasses in one of the kitchen cabinets in the back of the house. The scream came from upstairs and his first instinct told Jim to unholster his gun and run upstairs to see what all the commotion was about but before he could even do that, there was the sound of a door slamming shut and the next moment he saw none other than Edward Nygma coming down the stairs, his face red in anger as he was violently tugging his dress shirt back into his pants, his green suit jacket clenched in his left fist. His hair was ruffled and his tie undone. They only shared a glance as Edward reached the end of the stairs and the snarl he gave Jim told the story of old resentment and new jealousy before the man escaped from the mansion just as quickly.

»The boss got time for you know, I guess.« Gabe sighed and as Jim looked at him, he caught the burly man watching how Edward got into his car to drive off before Gabe closed the front door that Edward had left wide open in his haste. He didn't need to ask Gabe what he thought about Oswald’s visitor as his disdain for Edward was etched quite prominently in his weathered face. »He’s in his bedroom, second door to the left.«

Jim nodded sharply even though everything that was good and holy inside of him revolted against going into Oswald Cobblepot’s bedroom right now. Even under normal circumstances, this would be beyond unreasonable and odd but with the premise that Edward Nygma had just left that same room very much in a rush to get dressed, only furthered his discomfort at the prospect. He was only here to tell Oswald that he was going to receive some kind of honor for his good deed, after all. He should just have called.

Still, Jim straightened his shoulders and walked up the stairs. He was a man, not a mouse, after all, and this was just a man in his bedroom. Like the harbinger of bad news to come, thunder roared over the mansion shortly after Jim had reached the top of the staircase and entered the first-floor hallway now. The ghost of yellow light came from beneath the second door to the left. Oswald’s bedroom. As he walked over to the door, he was passing by portraits of numerous long dead van Dahls staring back at him with accusing eyes. Well, the family resemblance certainly was there. Some of them shared the same nose as Oswald, some of them had the same crazy look in their eyes.

He knocked sharply on the door as he reached it and didn't have to wait long for a response. »Go away, Gabe!« The voice from inside sounded strained and hollow - drained almost. Jim ignored the rejection - after all, he wasn't Gabe, was he?

As he opened the door despite Oswald’s clear words, he expected the mobster to throw something at his head but instead, he found him sitting on the edge of his bed with his back turned to the door, staring out of the window in front of him and watching the rain drumming against the thick glass. He was completely naked as he sat there and didn't even flinch as Jim stepped inside and closed the door. He had always thought that Oswald would be the type to never let anyone see him naked - prim and proper as he always was. In fact, he had only rarely seen him wear less than a three-piece suit. Back during his first stay in Arkham, seeing him in that uniform had been the closest thing to seeing him naked, he guessed.

Now, in the yellow light of the fire that was gently crackling in the marble fireplace on the far wall of the room, he could see clearly the many scars Oswald had collected over the years. He recognized the jagged ugly scar in his left shoulder where Tabitha had once shot him. But this scar was only one of many. To his surprise, Oswald was much less thin than he had expected him to be. He was still slender and slim but the muscles in his upper arms seemed much more defined than he would have thought. He was not nearly as fragile and delicate as some people might think he was.

»Oswald.« He knew that Oswald recognized his voice right away and yet the man didn't flinch but merely allowed his shoulders to slump. It didn't feel right to be here now and intrude on Oswald like this. Something was wrong about the situation. And despite that Jim walked over to him, Oswald made no move to cover himself up as if he truly didn't care that Jim would see him completely naked. Of course, Jim didn't stare at him or allowed his eyes to roam Oswald’s lean body more than strictly necessary as he sat down next to him. Why he did this was beyond him, actually. It just felt like the proper thing to do.

»Is everything okay?« Even looking at his face now from the side, his eyes directed still at the window as if lost in his own mind, he knew that nothing was okay. Still, nothing could have prepared him for what would come out of Oswald’s mouth next.

»He wanted money.« Oswald mumbled. He sounded tired. »He fucked me because he wanted my money for Lee’s clinic. He fucked me and imagined me to be her.« His voice sounded hollow and Jim knew that under different circumstances he would have rather killed himself than saying those things in Jim’s presence. Now, however, his mind seemed too occupied by the hurt he was suffering than the embarrassment and shame that he certainly felt just the same. Against all better judgment, Jim didn't jump out of his skin as he saw the tear that was running down Oswald’s pale cheek before the mobster quickly wiped it away.

At this moment he was naked in front of Jim in more than one way as he allowed himself to be vulnerable like this, trusting that Jim wouldn't use it against him. There was no need for words for Jim to understand the severity of the situation. There was no need for words from the mobster for Jim to understand that Oswald indeed trusted him enough to say those things.

»Look at me. How stupid. Of course, he would only sleep with me for money. Who in their right mind would ever want to sleep with someone like me?«

»Oswald-«

»My mother always said, life gives you only one true love and when you find it, you run to it. I had my chance and I squandered it when I killed Isabella.« A year ago, before all that drama with Sophia Falcone had gone down, he would have jumped on that opportunity as Oswald so easily confessed to a murder now. Today, he only felt heavy listening to his confession. »Perhaps true love is not meant for evil people. Perhaps I deserve this.«

»You are not evil.« The response came on instinct and Oswald’s snort as an answer to his words didn't even surprise him.

»Please, Jim. Spare me.«

»No, I mean it.« He sighed and followed his gaze out the window. »I've seen true evil, Oswald and you are not. If you would be evil, truly rotten, you would have truly killed that little boy and not go through all the effort to just fake his death.«

There was silence for a little while after this and for a moment he was scared Oswald would begin to cry in earnest now. »I miss him so much.« He then admitted quietly. »You know … When I adopted Martin … I thought maybe that was what my mother meant. Maybe I was always meant to be his father and that this little boy, my son, is the one true love of my life as I was my mother’s. But now I can't even see him anymore because being with me means certain death for him. Everything I touch seems to rot right under the tips of my fingers. I corrupt and I kill. I corrupted Edward as well. I could have had him, had I not killed that woman. And now he just comes to me when he needs money for the woman he loves and fucks me like he is nothing but a simple callboy for me to enjoy.«

He drove a hand through his hair. »I suppose I can only accept it as it is, right? It's either accepting it and ridding myself from this obsession of finding true love or agony. I might as well start calling hookers over when I feel the urge to. In the end, everyone only wants my money or my power anyway.«

It should feel much weirder to talk to Oswald like this and to get a glimpse of the inner workings of the Penguin’s heart. It didn't, though. It felt right to sit here and listen to his grief about the situation because it resonated deep within Jim’s soul as well. He knew how he felt.

»You still love him.« It wasn't a question just as it wasn't a question that he still loved Lee and he knew how much Oswald was hurting when he would see Lee and Edward together.

They would be the doom of each other. Ed might be thinking that he was in love but Lee was outright using him and using Oswald by proxy. She had probably sent him here and Ed, being that lovestruck fool, had been ready to do anything it would take for his lady love - no matter whom he would hurt. Maybe this was Lee’s way of taking revenge for the death of Kristen Kringle, for Edward blackmailing Jim and getting him locked up or for Oswald ruining so much of her life just by existing in the same city. He knew Oswald well and he knew that Oswald was able to forgive certain things, even a gunshot to the stomach, but this playing on his emotions like this … this was plain cruel.

In response to his question, he only got a strangled sob and he put his hand on Oswald’s naked shoulder without thinking twice about it. Over the course of four years, Jim had tried to avoid touching Oswald’s skin, as if he had secretly been afraid that Oswald’s darkness would seep right into him would his hand ever touch Oswald’s skin. In the end, this city had corrupted Jim all on its own.

He felt the shiver that was running through Oswald and wondered what it might feel like to kiss away the pain the young mobster was experiencing. For just a brief moment, Jim wondered if they could both forget about their pain for just a moment, would they allow themselves the indulgence of carnal pleasure. He knew that Oswald would be thinking of Edward and Oswald would know that Jim would be thinking of Lee. It wouldn't be fair though. And yet it was Oswald who craned his neck just enough to look at him fully and it was Jim who leaned down just enough to capture those lips.

It was not fair but it was what it was.


	2. Chapter 2

For the longest time, Jim had dreaded waking up in the morning - so much in fact, that he would have rather stayed awake all night so that he wouldn't find his bed cold and lonely in the morning. As he opened his eyes on this particular morning, however, the first thing he heard was the drumming of heavy raindrops on the thick windows of the room over the deep breathing of another person. The first thing he smelled was Oswald’s shampoo as he had his nose still buried in his raven hair. _Green apples,_ he thought. The first thing he felt was Oswald’s lean body in his arms. The first instinct he had was to pull him even closer against his chest. They fit together perfectly the way Jim was plastering his own naked body to the smaller man’s back.

Waking up with Oswald in his arms like this, buried under a mountain of blankets, had become a routine by now. The first time they had slept together lay now over two months in the past but he could still remember the pain Oswald had been in after he had thrown Edward out of his house in agony. Since then, they avoided the topic of Edward or Lee entirely.

As he lay there now, Jim felt content. It was not ideal. It was not what he had wished moving forward. It was not what he would have seen for himself in the future. It was what it was and it felt good. It felt nice. They didn't love each other in the common sense of the word but Jim felt that they had a mutual understanding of each other's pain and feelings. No one understood him as well as Oswald even when he wouldn't be talking. He knew what buttons to press and when to be silent. He knew when to wrap his arms around Jim and when to just lend him a hand in silent comfort.

So many years tied them together. They had seen each other rise and fall and despite everything, despite their differences, Jim now knew that neither one of them had ever lost respect for the other. He felt, a little, like they were married - because wasn't this how marriage should feel like? Marriage was not just about being in love with another person. It was about respect and understanding. It was about accepting the other person as they were with all their flaws and faults and grievances. Of course, the fact that they were both in love with another person was only one flaw in his tired early morning thoughts.

Still, to Jim, it felt like coming home when he would leave work and drive to Oswald’s mansion. They would meet once or twice a week under the cover of darkness in this mansion. Three times a week when they got lucky. The only people aware of their affair were Gabe and Butch but for once Jim didn't worry about them knowing. To them, this was just about sex and they didn't judge in that respect. They didn't see the times Oswald and Jim would spend talking to each other in front of the fireplace or playing a game of chess. They didn't see them retiring to bed without having touched each other in any way or the nights they would spend in each other's arms without even the thought of sex. They didn't see the companionship they shared. To them, they were just two men following their urges and there was nothing wrong with that.

Going to work after a night shared with Oswald, Jim always felt a little more at ease. No matter what would happen at work or what kind of insanity this city would throw in his face every day, he knew that there was someone in his corner cheering him on. And wasn't it just so Gotham that the one person who would always cheer him on was a career criminal? And wasn't it just so very absurd that he, the captain of the GCPD - a lawman - would always cheer on the head of the underworld of Gotham in exchange?

It had taken him years to understand that Oswald was the best thing that could have ever happened to the Gotham underworld.

It was already past nine PM this Friday night when Jim finally got off work. Another strange day in Gotham had demanded its tribute. He was tired and exhausted and yet, as he got into his car and drove not straight home to his crappy little apartment in downtown for once, he was excited. Oswald would wait for him with something nice to eat, perhaps a glass of rich red wine and casual conversation.

Odd how he used to dread coming home to another person after a stressful day of work before and how much he was looking forward to those nights he would share with Oswald. Being understood on such a profound level without the fear of saying something wrong, felt good. Talking to Oswald was so much more easily than he would have ever thought before. He felt like there was nothing he could say that Oswald would judge him for.

The drive to the old van Dahl house went by in a blur and not even twenty minutes after leaving the GCPD he drove into the driveway of the mansion. The house seemed largely dark already as he parked his car in the usual spot but that was not too strange. Gabe was probably already home and Butch out somewhere.

The house seemed oddly empty as Jim entered. Usually, Oswald would greet him at the door or call out for him from the parlor when Jim would arrive at his house. Tonight there was only an eerie silence resting heavily over the ancient mansion and the eyes of long lost members of the van Dahl family were looking down on him from their portraits.

»Oswald?« He called out but only silence answered him. With a shrug, he turned to the parlor to his right-hand side. Perhaps something happened that had demanded Oswald’s urgent attention. He would tell him so without going into details. It was their unspoken agreement that he wouldn't disclose the details of his shady businesses to Jim as to not get him in the uncomfortable position of actually acting against the man he slept with.

He couldn't quite hide his disappointment as he turned towards the parlor. He had been looking forward to meeting Oswald the moment he would come to this house and he decided to ignore the fact just how inappropriate this thought was. As he came into the parlor, he found it turned on its head. Vases were shattered and flowers - lilies - lay in puddles on the carpets. The small coffee table was broken down in the middle as if something heavy had slammed into it. Everything inside the room spoke of the fight that had occurred.

The kingpin of Gotham was on the ground. Blood was clinging to Oswald’s face.

»Oswald!« He breathed.

The young kingpin seemed unconscious as Jim crouched down next to him, his heart hammering loudly in his chest as he felt for his pulse and found it slow and weak under the tips of his fingers. His face was a bloody mess, his left arm hung from his body in a weird angle - _dislocated_ , the more rational part of his mind helpfully provided. At least he couldn't see any signs of stab wounds or gunshot wounds.

»Oswald!« The name was like a mantra or perhaps even some kind of sick prayer so that God might show just a little mercy for Oswald now - whether he deserved mercy or not. »Come on! Pull yourself together!«

Jim's first instinct as a cop was to search the house for Oswald’s attacker but then, he just pulled him closer instead and gently smacked the side of his face. Consequential, he was rewarded with a groan and the fluttering of eyelids even though his left eye was swollen badly already.

»Jim?« His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

»I’m here.« Notwithstanding that everything inside of him wanted to find whoever did this to Oswald and rip them apart piece by piece. »I’m here, Babe. What happened?«

Would the circumstances be any different, Oswald would probably rip his head off cleanly for this pet name. Until now they had never used any kind of pet names, to begin with, and yet, here he was, calling the kingpin of the Gotham underworld _Babe_ as if it was normal. He remembered the day Don Maroni died and how his death had been caused not only by his arrogance but also by his desire to call Fish Mooney _Babes_ and thus humiliate her in front of his henchmen.

»Ed.« He bit out in a whisper and screwed his eyes shut for a moment again. His breathing was labored and wheezing. He had a hard time even staying awake right now as it seemed. His suit was ripped and blood was clinging to his white shirt. Yet, the state the parlor was in told Jim that Oswald had at least given Edward a good fight before he went down. It seemed a miracle now that he wasn't dead.

»What?« He gasped but before he could even begin to form another question, he picked Oswald up instead. Now was not the time to ask stupid questions. He would find Edward and beat the answers out of him soon enough. Already, he could see him saunter into this house as if he was still living here, as if he had any right to show up on Oswald’s doorstep after the things he had done to the smaller man, only to beat the crap out of Oswald. Had he asked for money again? Did he feel entitled to Oswald’s money?

»It was Ed.« Oswald licked his brittle lips tiredly as Jim finally reached the sofa with him to carefully put him down on the cushions. He was thinking about calling an ambulance but he knew that Oswald would protest about it and how bad it would look on Oswald if he would be transported away from his house by an ambulance. In the hospital, he would be easy prey anyway. A man in his position could not allow anyone to see him weak. Except for Jim, as it was now. »He came … We argued. I told him to fuck off - that I was done with him.« Oswald swallowed thickly and Jim could see how much strength it really took from the smaller man to even continue talking right now. »He knows about us, Jim.«

The words were almost like a punch in the gut. If Nygma knew, Lee would know as well. Certainly, that lovestruck fool had run right to her to tell her that her ex was now banging the most dangerous criminal in all of Gotham. Ed was a snake - and one that liked to mark its territory too. In his mind, Lee would lose all feeling she might still have for Jim if she would know that Jim was sleeping with Oswald. And perhaps he was right. Whatever feeling Lee might still have for him, hearing about Jim and Oswald would be the death of it. His chances of ever getting back together with that woman were gone. And still, the thought was not as bothering as it should be. Maybe Lee and he had never been meant to be.

»It's alright.« He found himself whisper as he dragged his fingers through Oswald’s ruffled feathers. He desperately wanted to clean up the blood on his face. In the past, he had seen this man hurt numerous times again and again but never like this. It hurt more than he was willing to admit. »It's alright.«

»He was furious.« Oswald mumbled faintly and as he opened his mouth again to talk, the words died on his tongue. Whatever he wanted to say, he couldn't bring himself to let out now and all Jim could do was press a kiss to his temple. For a second he stayed like this, one hand on the side of Oswald’s face, his nose buried into his raven hair as he took a deep breath to remind himself that Oswald was still kicking. »Please, Jim … leave him alone. Don't go after him.«

Jim rose back to his feet by instinct as he heard the front door open again and pulled his gun out to train it on the archway to the hallway. »Oswald!« He knew the voice and, sure enough, none other than Butch Gilzean stepped into his field of vision at once with his meaty body. Seeing him in his grundy-fied state was still odd and a little unnerving even to someone like Jim Gordon who should have seen way worse than this. »Gordon? What are you doing- What the hell happened here?«

Butch was wise enough not to point a gun at Jim now, but he could tell that he wanted to as the man rushed into the parlor. Alarm written clearly on his face.

»It was Nygma.« Jim explained as Butch found Oswald on the sofa. The young criminal was barely clinging to consciousness by now and Jim found his blood boiling at the sight. What if someone else would have found him? It would have been so easy for one of his numerous enemies to just snap his neck like that of a bird. He remembered Miriam Loeb at this thought. _No … Not like a bird. For her, I needed a candleholder._

»I’m going to rip that snake in half!« Butch thundered and Jim wouldn't even put it past Butch to actually do this. His new strength would certainly give him the means to follow through on that promise.

»First, help me find a doctor who doesn't ask questions.«

※※※※※※※

The Narrows was a cold, unforgiving place. No one who was in their right mind or had a choice would walk these streets in the middle of the night. Jim, however, was neither in his right mind nor had he a choice in the matter. He wasn't here on official police business, of course, and yet his badge gave him the authority he needed to maneuver through the area without being attacked.

He quickly reached the place Edward Nygma called his home - the Riddle Factory after leaving his car in a dark alley behind a restaurant. Above his head, thunder roared in the distance and rain was already drizzling down on his beige trenchcoat. Oswald would scold him and demand him to use an umbrella like any sane person was.

»We are closed tonight! Come again tomorrow!« Even hearing Edward Nygma’s voice as he entered and allowed the metal doors to fall shut behind him made him feel sick to the stomach. He had the back to Jim as he entered the factory and wouldn't it be just so easy to shoot this man in the head from behind now? He felt his fingers itch for his sidearm. He could just take his gun, shoot him in the head and leave without anyone ever knowing that he had been here, without anyone ever suspecting him. Hell … Even if anyone would suspect him of being the murderer of Edward Nygma, who would really blame him? The guy was a psychopath. He was torturing and killing people every night in this little game show of his!

Before he even got the chance of actually following through with those dark thoughts, Edward turned around and away from the giant neon green question mark that was the centerpiece of the stage.

»Jim.« He paled considerably at his sight. It filled him with satisfaction to see the damage Oswald had inflicted on the other man. His nose was broken, his left eye was swollen shut and his lips were split. He was not wearing his glasses which indicated to Jim that they may have suffered during his fight with Oswald. Everyone always underestimated Oswald. He was of small stature, that much was true but Jim knew how feisty that one was. Oswald was much stronger than people would believe him to be.

»Ed.« His greeting was clipped as he stepped closer and walked up the stage. He saw how Ed’s eye were flickering to the gun in his holster shortly. The man was intelligent, he probably knew why Jim was here and he probably knew that Jim was not here for a friendly chat about the assault either. »Why what happened to your face, Ed?«

Before Jim knew it, Edward’s shoulders slumped. His entire demeanor suddenly changed. Where he was usually cocky and self-assured, arrogant even, now he seemed beaten down - and not in the very real physical way either. He shut his eyes tightly against the dim lighting of the factory and pressed two fingers against his temples. »I didn't mean to do it.«

The words came out as a complete surprise for both of them as Edward looked at him almost a little startled by his own choice of words. Yet, he continued, he soldiered on. »I didn't mean to hurt him like this.«

Jim wanted to jump Edward and beat the rest of his face in until not even his own mother would be able to recognize him any longer. He wanted to rip him in half like Butch had expressed before. _Please, Jim … Leave him alone. Don't go after him_. That was what Oswald had asked of him and it seemed too much to ask of anyone right now. It was definitely too much to ask of Jim Gordon at this moment and yet, he clenched his fist instead of ramming it into Edward Nygma’s face. He seemed stricken with guilt - but, of course, that could all be an act. It was Edward Nygma he was talking to, after all.

»Then why did you?« He bit out the words with a dark growl. »Tell me, Ed. Why did you walk into that house and beat him to a bloody pulp?« Edward winced as he grabbed him by the collar with both hands and pulled him closer. A part of him was deadly aware of the risk that Ed might stab him in the gut. »Did you want money again?«

»You have no right to judge me, Jim Gordon!« Edward pushed back with as much force as he still had and managed to throw him off balance just enough to get two steps between them. »Not you! Not him! He’s taken everything from me! And now he dares to act holier than thou as he spreads his legs for a fucking cop like a common whore!«

»And not for you, is that it? Are you furious because he won't sleep with you?«

He had hit the nail on the head regardless of the fact that Edward tried to act as if this wouldn't be the case at all. »Who in their right mind would want to sleep with a freak show like him?« Ed hissed and spread his arms wide as if this was just one of his stupid little shows. »Come on, Jimmy-boy! You are here to defend his honor, aren't you? Please, feel free to shoot me. That's what you want, isn't it? I can see it on your face! Or has Mrs. Gordon told you not to?«

He bit his bottom lip.

»That's it, isn't it?« Ed laughed. »He still loves me! That's why he told you not to do anything! Oh, Jimmy-boy - you can fuck him as much as you want but he will always love me and the fact that you are here now to take revenge for him tells me that you love him! Sadly, you will never have him.«

It was this what finally pushed Jim over the edge as he lunged at Edward and thundered his fist into his face so hard that he knocked him unconscious before the taller man even hit the ground.

※※※※※※※

Lee Thompkins had left Gotham. Apparently, she had dumped Edward shortly before the man had come to Oswald to vent his anger.

»She took all his money.« Oswald mumbled over the sound of heavy raindrops slamming against his bedroom window. »After he didn't get my money, he took to bank robbing. Apparently, he was quite good at it … Who would have thought? He is so flamboyant … I mean, you would expect him to leave giant green question marks all over the place, right? Anyway … She took his money and bailed.«

»That's no excuse for what he did to you.« He knew that arguing with Oswald was often futile, so he pulled him closer into his arms instead. The softness of Oswald’s bed had become a welcome friend to Jim by now.

»I am not excusing him.« He sighed. »But he was hurt and his heart was broken and by god, if anyone knows about heartache, it's me. He lashed out. He never meant to kill me.«

Oswald was warm and alive in his arms as Jim held him close. The doctor had done a remarkable job of fixing his injuries. His left arm was in a sling against his chest, the few open cuts on his face had received stitches. The gangster had not even flinched during the ordeal and only passed out when the doctor had fixed his shoulder.

»You still love him. That was why you didn't want me to go after him.«

»A part of me will always love him.« It wasn't the answer Jim wanted to hear but it was honest and he could respect honesty. He loved it that Oswald was honest to him at least. »You didn't harm him, did you?«

»I punched his lights out.« Honesty was the key to their odd little relationship. It was just that simple and to Jim, this was almost a bit of a miracle. He had tried being honest in his relationships with Lee and Barbara but in the end, he had always failed disastrously. It had begun with little white lies here and there and had only grown from there until he had found himself in a never-ending downward spiral of betrayal and heartache. Telling Oswald the truth, however, was strangely easy and simple. He didn't feel the urge to lie to him in any way. Even as Oswald now gently punched his arm.

»You didn't need to do that, you ridiculous man.« The little chastisement came completely without vigor or bite and only drew a small chuckle from Jim in return as he tucked Oswald’s head under his chin. His hair smelled like green apples. »You know … When he came and confronted me about you, for a second, I thought that he was jealous. For just a second, I thought Edward and I still had a chance and I was … happy, I guess.«

Those words made his stomach clench and he hated it. It was honest and he hated that Oswald was honest with him in this regard. He didn't know why the thought of Oswald feeling the way he did pained him that much. _No, Jim,_ he thought, _honesty_. He knew why that was the case. He knew it.  Oswald and he shared a deep understanding of each other. It was strange, perhaps it was a little crazy, but they did. They were two sides of the same coin. No one knew him better than Oswald and no one, not even Edward Nygma, knew Oswald Cobblepot better than Jim Gordon.

And maybe, he thought as they lay close like this and as he breathed in Oswald’s scent and felt his pulse vibrate under his fingertips, this was a form of love too. And maybe this kind of love and understanding of honesty and familiarity was exactly what both of them had been looking for. Oswald still loved Edward in a way and Jim still loved Lee in a way. This would never quite change. Those two had left marks on them. Witness marks buried deep in their hearts that told the stories of who they were and what they have been through.

However, feeling Oswald in his arms, hearing those words, he wasn’t even angry. It felt like home. It was not ideal. It was not perfect. But it was what it was and Jim loved Oswald with all his heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was wondering if I want to write a second part to this story from Oswald's POV


End file.
